


This Stupid Vessel

by Im_a_Hooman



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Deny Desmond's Death Day, Desmond Miles Lives, Desmond Miles Needs a Hug, Desmond Miles-centric, Father Figures, Gen, I'm making this up as I go, Kid Desmond Miles, Kleptomaniac Desmond Miles, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Ezio Auditore da Firenze, Protective Leonardo da Vinci, Theft, and who am i to stop it, i have absolutely no clue what i'm doing, look man idk how it just happened, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26673061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Im_a_Hooman/pseuds/Im_a_Hooman
Summary: Desmond didn’t know what to expect after touching the Eye of Eden, but it certainly wasn’t this.
Relationships: Desmond Miles & Leonardo da Vinci, Ezio Auditore da Firenze & Desmond Miles, Ezio Auditore da Firenze & Leonardo da Vinci
Comments: 58
Kudos: 388





	1. Street Rat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! This is my first work on AO3 and in this fandom, so please be nice! I don’t know how long I can go before forgetting/losing interest in this fic, but I’ll try to keep writing nonetheless. Thank you! 
> 
> Assassin’s Creed, nor its characters, belong to me. The story would be tragically screwed if it did, so perhaps it is for the best that I don’t get my hands on the ability to make my ideas canon.

He didn’t know what to expect when he touched the eye. Other than he would die.

He certainly didn’t expect the amount of pain involved in the whole ordeal. It felt like thousands of fire ants crawling and biting his arm, or like somebody poured 15 gallons of boiling water and it trickled down, or like he stuck his hand into a pit of flames and didn’t bother to take it out even as the flesh burned and fell off his skin, exposing bone. How could you ever expect that?

Even in the excruciating pain, when he fell, there was a sort of calm silence. An empty feeling, but not quite. It was like a missing puzzle piece fell into place, but the puzzle in its entirety looked unfinished. He felt wholly incomplete. 

However, this unsettling calm was only for a moment, as he felt his very being painfully shrink into that of something… small. 

_Oh hell no. I do_ not _want to relive birth again._

He looked at his small hands as he came to, mentally sighing with relief. No rebirth for Desmond. 

But what wasn’t a good thing was that Desmond didn’t know where he was. All he knew was that he was now a small child in… peasant clothing, by the looks of it. 

He stood up, observing his surroundings. He was in a dark alleyway, the faint scent of defecation and rot hanging in the air. The architecture would lead him to believe that he was back in Venice, but for him to be there would mean that…

Either the Bleeding Effect persists in death, or the Eye took him here. But how is that possible? Juno said they tried to go back in time, but it never worked. Isu bullshit, Desmond supposed. It was a thought for a later time.

Desmond tried climbing up a building, hoping to get a better understanding of where he was. As he grasped for a ledge, a guard caught sight and pulled him down from the windowsill he just managed to reach the top of. 

“Ehi! Where is your mother, little rascal?” a heavyset guard asked as he let Desmond fall to the ground on his back. 

“You really think he still _has_ a mother? Probably just another orphan. Let’s go, street rats are not worth the time.” another guard, this one in lighter armor, pulled him away and back to their rounds. Desmond waited until they turned the corner before scaling the wall. 

Desmond took in the beautiful sight. This was definitely Venezia, he knew without a doubt. There wasn’t much time to dwell on that, because he was quickly spotted by an archer on a nearby roof. He knew better than to pick a fight when he had no weapon, so he maneuvered his way back to the street-level.

What was he to do now? Sure he knew he was in Venezia, but he knew nothing else. And he is just a child! He can't live off of nothing. What year was it? 

Desmond wandered around for a while before stumbling upon a marketplace. People were chatting as they walked, and their purses heavy with the intent to be spent. Unfortunately for them, they would not be doing the spending. 

As a child, Desmond’s mother taught him that stealing is something that should only be done if it’s necessary. She would tell him not to get caught up in thievery, as it would only get you so far. Desmond thought that this qualified as necessary.

_Why must they be so animated? You don’t need to accentuate every single goddamn word with the flail of a hand._

“Hey! Stop! Thief!” a lady cried, pointing at him as he tried to move the crowd but was hindered by his height (or lack thereof). Guards came rushing over, determined to stop the criminal, and Desmond started running, even though he knew his tiny child legs would only get him so far. 

“Get back here!”

“No!” Desmond shouted, looking behind him. This would be the moment where his father shouted at him for making such a novice mistake, and while it would be irritating to hear, he wasn’t wrong. Desmond ran into someone stepping out of a building, and the guards caught up to him. He hid behind the person he hit and prayed that they wouldn’t rat him out. 

“Sir! Do you know this boy?”

The man in question looked at Desmond, and he could see the wheels turning in his head. It was with only a second’s hesitation that he sighed a response, “Yes… what has he done now?”

“He stole a lady’s purse.”

“Is that so? Hmm, little one?” Desmond looked down in fake shame and nodded. Man, this was going way smoother than he could have ever hoped for.

“I’m sorry for whatever trouble he caused. Why don’t you give it back?” Aaaaaand there goes food for the evening. He handed a purse with the least amount of money in it and hoped they would get off his back. The guards were none the wiser as they took the money and went to find its owner. 

Even though he tried to speed away from the scene as quickly as he could, the man caught his shoulder before he even took a step. “Where are your parents?”

“Gone.” It technically wasn't a lie, as his parents don't exist, and, therefore, are gone.

The man examined him, and that’s when Desmond looked at him in the face. 

_Is that…Leonardo da Vinci? My luck knows no bounds._

“Do you have a name?”

Desmond hesitated, “Dominico.” He hoped that sated Leonardo’s curiosity for now.

“Dominico? What a lovely name,” Leonardo pulled out his purse and reached inside. “Here, little one. You can get something to eat with th-”

“Leonardo! My friend.” 

Desmond could recognize that voice from anywhere.

_You’ve got to be kidding me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as always, I have lost my sense of direction. I don’t have a clue where this is going. If you’re reading this, congrats! You’re just as clueless as I am!


	2. Kleptes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well :) a week went by (irl).  
> and WOW this is surprisingly difficult to write, especially after i wrote ezio in on complete accident oh my GOD  
> THANK YOU FOR THE COMMENTS AND KUDOS!!!!!  
> thank you for reading, as always <3

_You’ve_ got _to be kidding me._

“Ezio! What a surprise,” the two hugged and Desmond wanted to melt into the _fucking_ ground. A surprise in-fucking-deed.

“Who might this be? Certainly you haven’t become a father since the last time I’ve seen you,” Ezio looked at Desmond, and he hoped he wouldn’t notice that he was a carbon copy of him.

“Of course not! This is Dominico, I helped him out of a… scuffle with a few guards,” Leonardo then went into a whisper that Desmond could barely hear, but he couldn’t be bothered to try and eavesdrop. Instead, he took the time to examine Ezio.

 _Armed to the teeth, of course. He has Altair’s armor and sword too. Hmm. Wonder how much he has in his coin purse. I mean, I wouldn’t get far… but what if I yoinked it anyways? How far can I go before my little legs give out? How far would I get before he_ noticed _? Probably not far_.

“Well my friend, I must be on my way-”

“We’ll talk more about this later, for sure.”

Ezio looked a bit miffed, but replied nonetheless, “Goodbye Leonardo, Dominico.”

As Ezio walked away, Desmond could only wonder what they were talking about and regretted not eavesdropping. Just a little.

* * *

If Ezio had to expect when he came around the corner, it certainly wouldn’t be this.

All those years ago, when his mother scolded him to have outlets “ _besides vaginas,_ ” she certainly wasn’t wrong. Perhaps if he had heeded her words, he wouldn’t have to deal with the situation at hand. If only he could go back in time and change his mistakes.

But what’s done is done.

“Leonardo! My friend.”

“Ezio! What a surprise,” he hugged Leonardo and let a smile come onto his face.

“Who might this be? Certainly you haven’t become a father since the last time I’ve seen you,” he turned to look at the boy.

“Of course not! This is Dominico. I helped him out of a… scuffle with a few guards,” Leonardo dropped into a whisper, a tone that sent shivers down his spine, “perhaps they thought he looked familiar.” 

What he was implying was obvious; Dominico bears a striking resemblance to himself. A resemblance that’s so exact, down to even the most minute of details, there could only be one possible explanation.

“What are you implying?”

“Ezio, he looks just like you.”

“Perhaps it is merely a coincidence? ”

“You and I both know that the chances of it being ‘a coincidence’ are extremely small, my friend.”

“Nothing is true-”

“And everything is permitted. The possibility of Dominico being your child is something to keep in mind.” 

Ezio inhaled sharply at that because he knew it was the truth.

“Well my friend, I must be on my way-”

“We’ll talk more about this later, for sure.”

Ezio was mildly vexed, but replied nonetheless, “Goodbye Leonardo, Dominico.”

The assassin walked away, looking for a window to climb up. And as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop, Ezio could only wonder who the child’s mother was, and regretted walking away so quickly. Just a little.

* * *

Leonardo handed Desmond the coins, referring the boy to an inn. However, Desmond had no plan to go to an inn. They’d ask too many questions.

So, obviously, he turns back to thievery, even though it’s what got him into that mess in the first place. He needs to eat, and if he spends all his money on an inn, he’ll be sheltered and _kinda_ safe, but he’ll be starving.

After he snatched a few heavy coin purses, he realized that this wasn’t going anywhere. He only had around 200 florins, and while he could buy a few loaves of bread with that, Desmond wasn’t going to stop there. If he wanted to skip that inn, he would either have to sleep in the streets or on the roofs. The streets were places you don’t want to be at night, with creeps and drunks and whatnot.

Then, like a miracle, he spotted it; guards were standing in the doorway of a room with chests in it.

_Easy cash? Or, uh, coin? Don’t mind if I do._

He walked towards the door, only to be kicked away by one of the assholes guarding the treasure. 

_I really don’t know what I was expecting, but the ribs, man? What a bastard._

Desmond sat down on the bench, rubbing his chest in pain. Ow. The sounds of people chatting, courtesans laughing, and armor clunking around filled the area. He considers hiring courtesans, but doubts they’ll take him seriously. Besides, they would definitely remember a small child asking to distract guards. The - boy? Or is it man? - gets up, taking out a few florins and throwing them on the ground. The townsfolk take immediate notice, as do the guards, and he slips into the room unnoticed.

The chests each had a few hundred florins each, which Desmond gratefully pocketed.

Unfortunately, the guards had stepped back into place. There were two ways to go about this: make a mad dash, or try to sneak out. The latter most likely wouldn’t work but was worth a shot either way.

Desmond squeezed through a spot, only to trip on a metal boot cover and tumble on the floor. 

_Not this again…_

“You! Thief! Get back here so I can cut off your hands!” 

Desmond climbed as fast as his body would permit, hiding in the nearest rooftop garden. He waited silently for the guards to give up their search when the cloth was moved and someone jumped in.

“Dominico? What are you doing-”

“Shh! There are guards looking for you. And me. So shush.”

Surprisingly, Ezio did remain quiet. There was an awkward silence as the two hoped the other wouldn’t initiate conversation.

“...Do you think they’re gone?”

“What was that? Who's there?”

_Shit._

Ezio looked in the direction of the voice, ready to strike on a moment’s notice. When the guard got close enough, the assassin shot out and grabbed his neck, methodically dragging the body inside. The guard’s blood dampened the soil of the garden, and colored some of the petals and leaves a dark crimson.

“I call dibs on his loot,” Desmond immediately started rummaging through pockets and pouches, leaving the man beside him stunned. 

_This child just saw me kill a man, and goes to dig in his pockets?_

“Thanks for the stuff. And saving my life too, I guess,” Desmond smiled and leaped out of the garden.

Ezio left the hiding spot soon after and dropped onto the street, scaring a few passersby.

_Oh god, I really do have a- wait, where are my florins?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i didn't plan to make desmond a klepto, he just,,,,, took the opportunity and ran ~badum ttssssszzt~  
> as always, don't be shy, tell me what you think ;)))))))))  
> also uhhhhhhhhh quick question do yall like ezio/leo


	3. Larcen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you’re mad at me... i don’t blame you lmao I just dropped off the face of the earth??? in case you are wondering why: 1) my history class. so,,,, much,,, notes,,,, and 2) i lost motivation. I love this book and i love yall, but it was so hard to sit down and come up with something. its been months and i just ghosted around for a bit, but i think i’m back!!!!!!  
> also holy SHIT yall are hilarious. I read the comments and i’m just. Cackling in my room  
> the chapter is shorter than usual (i just needed to get something out there,,,,,,,, fill the void,,,,,,,,) but i hope yall enjoy it!!!!!

_Wow, that worked?_

Desmond was sitting on a bench in an alleyway, counting his ill-gotten gains. Most purses had at minimum four florins and at max twenty. But Ezio’s? He had around 3000 florins in his. Three thousand. And that’s probably just the tip of the iceberg.

_I can actually get something nice with this. Thank you for the kind donation, Ezio._

He walked over to a blacksmith, struggling to see over the counter. Luckily, someone working saw the top of his head and peered over the ledge.

“Go home, little boy. This is no shop for you.”

“I wanted to get something for my father, you see. I have the money!”

The blacksmith stared him down with a stern glare, “And how much would that be?”

“Enough to buy your wares.”

There was a moment of tense silence where Desmond hoped he wouldn’t have to go elsewhere, before the man behind the counter burst out laughing, “you’re something, kid. What can I get you?”

Desmond walked away with his pockets lighter and his hand curled around a stiletto knife.

* * *

_Claudia would either be laughing at me or looking for a place to hide my body. Probably both._

Ezio dragged a gloved hand over his face. While he had much more than what he lost, the pouch was meant for some of the renovation funds for Monteriggioni’s brothel, and NOT whatever that miscreant of a boy was using the florins for. Three thousand florins lost to a damn child. Only a true Auditore has the audacity to do something like that, he supposed. 

_Maybe if I search the rooftops I may find the tiny bastard. I cannot_ believe _I actually let this happen._

Using his gift, he found the child not far from where they went their separate ways.

“Ehi! You!” The child turned around, and he and the assassin locked eyes. 

_He has my eyes._

And in a second, he was chasing after the thief; his son.

* * *

_Why the hell is he running so fast?! Who gave him permission to do that, huh?_

Desmond cursed under his breath as he clambered up the conveniently placed boxes and crates. His fingers burned when he swung on the pole, but that was the least of his issues. He needed to get away from a guy that wants his money back. Coincidentally, it’s the same guy he’d been trying to avoid. Yippee. 

Oh, how he wished he had longer legs and stronger lungs, at least he then would stand a chance. It was pure luck that he had been brought here as a child whose body had been as conditioned as one could be without it being unhealthy. But that’s about where the luck ended. If he were lucky, Ezio would have let the loss go. He probably had more than enough money. But no. No. He just had to pick today to be the day to chase after the pickpocket. 

_Doesn’t he have anything better to do? Go race someone, complete a contract, beat someone up?_ Anything? 

Since tackling a child on the rooftop probably wasn’t the best idea, Ezio simply grabbed Desmond by the back of his collar and held him up to his height. He looked at the dangling child.

“Where is it?”

“Where is what?”

“The florins.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You stole my money.”

“Did I? I don’t recall doing so.”

“In the garden on the roof.”

“What- wait, that's what those are? I always wondered what those were.”

“What? Just give me back what you stole.”

“No can do, sir.”

“Well, why not?”

“What do you think a kid is going to do with money? It’s been spent.”

“So you _did_ steal it.”

“Steal is such a strong word. I prefer borrowing. It will be returned… at a later date.”

Ezio sighed, his grip unrelenting, “Take me to the merchant.”

“Now why would I want to do that? I’m perfectly fine with what I bought, I see no need to return it.”

“I’m going to get my florins back. Give me what you bought.”

“No. It’s useful. Just get some more florins, for fuck’s sake.”

“You stole, now you face the consequences. Hand it.”

Desmond looked him dead in the eyes, and Ezio was reminded of their striking similarities.

“No. I’m not giving it to you. Maybe you should guard your pockets better.”

* * *

“Sorry. It won’t happen again,” Ezio addressed the blacksmith a final time and pocketed the money, putting it on the side Dominico wasn’t (he learned his lesson, thank you very much). 

“What did you learn, Dominico?”

“Stealing from you probably wasn’t the best idea. I’d give it a few years before trying it again.”

“...It is a better lesson than nothing, I suppose."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me writing this instead of doing my hw: sometimes my genius,,,, it surprises me


End file.
